


And Our Dreams Are Making Us Nice Stories

by whatthefoucault



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Party, Retirement, Snacks & Snack Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 15:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18694516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/pseuds/whatthefoucault
Summary: Steve had been adamant that a party was unnecessary; however, his friends had insisted, bundling into his little Brooklyn apartment with pizzas and a selection of local microbrews and seven-layer taco dip and two dozen supermarket cupcakes emblazoned with the most neon buttercream he had ever seen piped into the stripes of little American flags.





	And Our Dreams Are Making Us Nice Stories

**Author's Note:**

> So this technically has nothing to do with Recent Avengers Film and any of it's extremely wacky continuity, but that film did get me thinking about giving Steve an actual retirement party, so here you go.
> 
> The title comes from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOiH3__qhuc) which is on [this soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3vcTpylDtpfyPt31Vdj31k) for [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837214), for which this could be kind of a post-credits scene, if you want.

Steve had been adamant that a party was unnecessary; however, his friends had insisted, bundling into his little Brooklyn apartment with pizzas and a selection of local microbrews and seven-layer taco dip and two dozen supermarket cupcakes emblazoned with the most neon buttercream he had ever seen piped into the stripes of little American flags.

He pulled another box of garlic bread from the oven, where they had been keeping them warm. This was a marathon shitty food session if ever there was one, and it would be several pizzas from now before Steve tired of the strangely inviting perfume of warm cardboard.

"I give it three months," said Sam, standing in the kitchen door.

"Hey," protested Steve, "this is a retirement party, not a three-months' sabbatical party. It was right there on the invitation. That you wrote."

"Nah, I know," Sam smiled, opening another bag of Doritos. "I'm glad you're letting go of your monopoly on inspiring and motivational speeches."

Steve pulled a six-pack of blonde ale from the fridge. And an Asgardian mead. It was a special occasion; he had earned it. He assumed the unfamiliar wood pigeon defrosting in the crisper drawer was for Redwing. "Think you can handle the responsibility?"

"Dude, please," Sam scoffed. "I was a counsellor. I can do motivational. And I'm light-years better at doing feelings than you are."

Steve sighed. "Thanks, Sam."

"You sure it's gonna stick this time?" asked Sam, sliding a bottle out of their sturdy paper caddy.

Steve tried to remember which of the little doodads on his pocket knife was a bottle opener. "There's a lot more good I can do in the world, just differently. We've been talking about it a lot," he said. He could see Bucky in the other room; Natasha must have said something funny, the way he was smiling, soft and unguarded. Steve saw his future there, and it was full of hope.

"So you're gonna, what, run for public office?"

Steve scrunched his nose at the thought of it. "No, nothing like that," he replied. "I don't think I've got the temperament. Yikes."

"Maybe so," said Sam, with a soft laugh. "Then what _are_ you gonna do?"

As they carried the next round of snacks back into the living room, Steve smiled. "I don't know," he said, greeting Bucky with a kiss to his soft, grey-flecked beard. "We're gonna figure it out together."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. [Come say hi on tumblr!](https://whatthefoucault.tumblr.com/post/184533363356/a-chronological-list-of-works-by-me)


End file.
